Circle The Drain
Hey Dearies! This story is a little more serious topic, that involved alcohol abuse and what can occur to those who are affected by it. I just want to also make a disclaimer that if you are triggered by physical abuse, please read with caution. I also want to point out that this is just a story, this isn’t a true story.
This is from an older Katy Perry song that wasn’t one of her famous songs, but this one I think has a bigger message to those who are around those who can’t control the addictions they have started or picked up. Here’s a link to her song:
I’m not sticking around to watch you go down.
She could hear the crack of another bottle opening, this was her father’s 6th beer and she could tell things were about to get worse before they get better. Instead of grieving her mother’s death, her father drowned himself after work in that bottle.
That bottle.
She hated that bottle and the contents that were in it. She wished when the days were back to as they were: happy and simple. That all changed when her mother was killed in a drunk driving accident. After that day, everything changed.
She remembered her mother just stepping out to get some stuff for supper, she wanted to go with her, but her mother told her she was going to be right back. Then 2 hours after she left to get food, they got that call, it changed her life and her father’s.
Tears started to fall down her cheek, just thinking about it. She wiped them away and saw that a tear had fallin on her homework, as she tried to wipe it away. She missed her mother, she wished that she was in the car with her, that maybe she could’ve made sure that her mother stayed in the store longer and missed the driver or she was in the car with her mom when she got hit.
“Go to bed!” My father yelled, it was only 3pm and she was just trying to finish up the leftover work that she had to get down for class. Her eyes landed on that bottle as she wished she had the courage to rip that bottle from her father’s hands and throw it out the window.
Instead of arguing with her drunk father, she gather her stuff and headed into her room, slowly closing the door behind her.
Before she knew it, her father had swang her bedroom door open, startling her as her stuff fell to the floor.
“Don’t turn your back on me, you listen and answer me!” He shouted again and raised his fist, throwing a punch at her.
She winced in pain as she held her hurt cheek, more tears started to fall as this wasn’t the first time he’s done something to his, but it was never more than just a slap. She froze on the ground as she covered herself from his beatings and kickings.
Once he was down, he left her alone, on the floor, bleeding from his beatings. She tried to sit up, but wince in pain before she could. She didn’t understand why. It had only been 7 months since her mother’s death, but what she had been going through, make it seem that it had been a lifetime that she has been going through this.
She pulled herself up, after waiting for the pain to go down, grabbing her backpack and grabbing a few things that she needed before opening her window and sneaking out.
She was greatful for living in a trailer park and knew exactly what to do. She headed down the second street of their trailer park and slowly walked down to Mrs. Humble’s house.
She would always remember the times that her mother used to go down to Mrs. Humble’s house to help her with grocery shopping, cleaning her house, and spending time with her and her husband, and when they heard the news about her mother passing, they were heartbroken.
Mrs. Humble also knew her since she was a baby and treater her just like one of her own grandchildren, giving her presents and teaching her new things, she enjoyed her more than her mother’s presence.
She now stood outside of the Humble’s house, their porch light had just gone on and she could see through the window, Mr. Humble watching T.V. in his chair, as he was working on his crossword puzzles. Then she looked over and next to him was Mrs. Humble, knitting away at another blanket, which were always a favorite of hers to make.
Slowly, she approached the door, but once she rang the door bell, she saw Mrs. Humble opened the door and her eyes watered as she saw her fall into their house.
“Gary! It’s Linsey! Call 911!” Mrs. Humble yelled as she held her in her arms, rocking her back and forth.
Linsey woke up in a hospital room, Mr. and Mrs. Humble were in the room with her, and they ran to the side of the bed as her eyes fluttered open. “Linsey, how you feeling?” Mrs. Humbled asked as Linsey just shrugged. “We need to tell you something, dear.”
Linsey nodded as Mrs. Humble held her hand carefully. “They arrested your father for what he did.” Once Mrs. Humble told her what happen, Linsey was heartbroken. As much as what her father did to her was inexcusable, she didn’t want loose him too.
Linsey tried to speak, but nothing was coming out, she didn’t understand. “Dear, your father did a lot damage to your voicebox, it looks like you may have lost your voice. I’m so sorry, dear.”
She was so angry and sad at what the events had occured, but the one thing she hated more, was that bottle of liquor that had started it all.
Let me know what you think about these short stories! Comment down below if you have an idea on what I should write about next!
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